hung all that while between the Walloon Synods of the
United Provinces and the French Protestant Church Courts,
the latter on the whole favouring him, the former
more and more bent on disgracing him. In April
of the present year a Walloon Synod at Tergou had
actually passed on him a sentence of suspension from
the ministerial office and from the holy communion
“until by a sincere repentance of his sins he
shall have repaired so many scandals he has brought
upon us.” In spite of this, a French Provincial
Synod, held at Ai in Champagne in the following month,
had ordered his admission to be carried into effect,
and the Parisian consistory had obeyed this order,
though two members of it protested. There had
since then been another Walloon Synod, held at Nimeguen
in September, in which the former sentence of the
Tergou Synod was confirmed, but, for the sake of peace
between the Walloon Church and their brethren of the
French Protestant Church, it was agreed to waive all
farther jurisdiction over Morus in Holland and to
“remit the whole cause unto the prudence, discretion,
and charity of the National Assembly of the French
churches to meet at Loudun.” This was the
Synod of whose approaching meeting Oldenburg had informed
Milton—the Synod of Loudun in Anjou (Nov.
10, 1659—Jan. 10, 1660). It was to
be a very important assembly indeed,—no
mere Provincial Synod, but a national one, expressly
allowed by Louis XIV., and to consist of deputies,
clerical and lay, from all the Protestant churches
of France, empowered to transact all business relating
to those churches under certain royal regulations
and restrictions, and in the presence of a royal Commissioner.
As there had been no such National Protestant Synod
in France for fifteen years, there was an accumulation
of business for it, the case of Morus included.
They were to examine that case de novo, and
to pronounce finally whether Morus was guilty or not
guilty, whether he should remain a minister of the
French Church or not.[1]
[Footnote 1: Bayle, Art. Morus, and Bruce’s Life of Morus, 204-226.]
Milton’s replies to the two letters will now be intelligible. He writes, it will be observed, in a gloomy mood, on the very day on which Whitlocke, for different reasons, was in a gloomy mood too and “wishing himself out of these daily hazards":—
TO HENRY OLDENBURG.
“That forgiveness which you ask for your silence you will give rather to mine; for, if I remember rightly, it was my turn to write to you. By no means has it been any diminution of my regard for you (of this I would have you fully persuaded) that has been the impediment, but only my employments or domestic cares; or perhaps it is mere sluggishness to the act of writing that makes me guilty of the intermitted duty. As you desire to be informed, I am, by God’s mercy, as well as usual. Of any such work as compiling the history of our political troubles, which you